Bleeding Scars
by Daughter of Rohan
Summary: {AU} –Includes torture, rape and abuse- (FrodoSam) Sam is captured in his attempt to rescue Frodo from the tower. The Ring is in danger of being discovered and the orcs want revenge.
1. Prologue: Captured

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

-:-xXx-:-

**Category:** Lord of the Rings  
**Genre:** Drama/Horror/Angst  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary: **AU –Includes torture, rape and abuse- (Frodo/Sam.) Sam is captured in his attempt to rescue Frodo from the tower. The Ring is in danger of being discovered and the orcs want revenge.

-:-xXx-:-

**Bleeding Scars**

**Prologue: Captured**

-:-xXx-:-

_Crack! _

The sickening sound vibrated through the air. Frodo shuddered as he shielded his hands above his face, shockwaves surrounding the pain that his body had just been subjected to. He whimpered from the sting.

"I...I..." he tried to speak, his voice dry with a racked sob. "I did not..."

Snaga sneered down at the pale, trembling creature, his gruesome expression filled with a mixture of loathing and mockery. "Don't you lie to me, you littl' rat," he growled, lowering the whip towards poor Frodo's naked body and trailing the end of the whip over his drawn belly. "I heard you squealin'; squealin' out to someone, now."

Frodo closed his aching eyes. _I heard someone singing to me...so beautifully...surely there can be something to cloud the evil here. _

The orc gazed with his beady yellow eyes at the long, bleeding gash that was crashing over Frodo's porcelain skin, sweat smearing together with the copper blood. He reached over and traced it with a long claw. Frodo winced.

"Look 'ow you bleed, scum," he whispered coldly, leaning close to Frodo's face so that his rotten breath danced in the Hobbit's nostrils. "Look 'ow helpless you are...all alone..._so very alone..._"

A tear leaked out of the corner of Frodo's eye. "Leave me alone."

Snaga continued to stare at him, tracing his hands and claws over his smooth, creamy skin and combing his dark hair. "One would think you were an elf, littl' one," he said, gently trailing a finger down Frodo's neck and nestling in the nape. "Don't look like a Hobbit to me, now."

"_Please..._"

Smarmy fingers ran themselves into the ebony curls, stroking them and playing with them as if he were a newborn babe. Fixed gazes fastened into the clear cerulean orbs that stared back up at him, as if they were clear pools of stardust. Snaga suddenly felt a sense of power over this tiny creature, bare and defenceless before him. He moved closer.

"Don't move, now," he hissed to Frodo, who felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of the oncoming tormentor; a strange look was in his eyes. He swallowed as Snaga craned over him, and to his horror hands ran down his body and grazed along his torso, slipping into a hold over his hips so that they were being cradled.

Frodo gasped. "Stop it! Don't touch me!" He tried to sidle away but the agonising sting of the whip caused him to cry out in pain.

"So _smooth_..." hissed the orc as he tickled his way down over to the curly hair at the place where the Hobbit's legs and chest met together, a hungry look seeming to flash dangerously in his eyes. "Why don't I keep ya all to myself – be my own littl' toy to play with...?" He licked his black lips.

"No...no!" whispered Frodo, struggling now and attempting to kick himself away. He flushed with humiliation as he felt the orc's fingers groping at his dark, slick hair, and he shuddered. "Stop it..._oh, please..._"

"Stop squirmin' – just _stay...still..._"

"No...! _Sam..._ohhh, _Sam..._"

All at once, a loud cry, like the scream of a lion as it rushes to protect its cub, broke through the air, curdling the blood of those in the room. Snaga's eyes snapped open and he whirled around speedily, just in time to feel cold metal scrape his slimy flesh, and salty blood coated his skin. He squealed and staggered back.

Frodo stared at the attacker, feeling his heart pound with confusion. He tried to adjust his vision so he could get a better look, his chest tightening. All he could hear were the bellows and screeching of the fight that was taking place in the room. He thought that he could recognise the voice – _Sam...oh, Sam – could it be? _– but of course, it was impossible...Sam was dead!

"Sam...?" he croaked uncertainly. His voice sounded strangled.

A strong, clammy hand immediately wrapped itself around Frodo's mouth and nose, bringing him closer to the warm, sticky body behind him. He had no time to cry out, but kicked weakly and struggled to wrench himself away, screaming against his gag.

"Sam – _Sam_!" his throat tore, muffled by skin.

_O, Sam – if it is you, don't let them take me, I don't want to be here – sweet Elbereth...**don't let them take me! **_

A sharp pain struck him in the back of his head, his blue eyes rolling back as he ended up with a _thud _on the floor. He could hear no other sounds but fading gruff shouts and screams, disappearing into gaps and crevices as darkness overtook the room and the Hobbit's eyes.

-:-xXx-:-

"FRODO!" Sam watched his master slump to the stone ground in a naked heap, and his copper eyes flashed. He tightened his already white knuckles around the hilt of Sting in fury, and leapt at Snaga, his heart burning embers of love and rage for all that he cared for – Frodo.

"You stinkin' creature!" he roared, swiping at the orc once more. "Don't you touch my master!"

Snaga sneered but scurried into the corner of the hold, remembering to keep well away from the shiny, painful weapon. His yellow peepers eyed Sam up and down, taking in everything that he could see. "What've we got 'ere, then?" he said, in a voice as oily as his skin. "Come to save the tiny 'elf then, 'ave ya?"

The brown eyes scowled. "I have – and you'd better stay well good away from him if you know what's good for you."

Snaga growled.

In dismay, Sam spotted the unconscious body of Frodo lying there on the hard stone, his skin coloured by bruises and cruel scars of crimson that criss-crossed his arms and back. His master's face was blotted with tear stains and sweat, his naked body visible. Sam fumed, trying to hold back tears, and moved closer towards Snaga with Sting pointing directly at his chest.

"Look what you done to him, you monster! He's bleedin'!"

His only response was a bitter, high-pitched squeal of a laugh as Snaga looked down at the small Hobbit that was speaking to him in such a way; with so much power and determination. He wished to be treated as a threat – when really it was just pathetic for Snaga's sight.

"That scum ain't answering when it's supposed to," he told him with a wry smile. "Says 'e knows nothin' – well, that weren't good enough...'e knows a great deal more than 'e'd like me to think he does, now, and if 'e can't do a simple thing like that – then he can bleed like the sewer rat 'e is!"

This was all too much for Sam. What? Let his beloved Frodo be subjected to such pain and torment, just because his brave heart refused to give away any information? That his beautiful, snow-white skin be churned black and blue because he was willing to protect all of Middle – Earth?

_It just ain't **right! **_

"Damn you!" Sam screamed, leaping forward, grabbing the orc by the shoulders and withdrawing Sting in a flash, holding him to the ground in a forensic battle. Claws, teeth and fists were delivered in a whirlwind, blisters forming along with fresh bruises.

Snaga struck out and Sting went clattering to the floor. Harsh breaths tore at Sam's throat as he stared down at his hand – a cut bleeding across his brown skin. He stared desperately at his weapon lying there on the ground, and in a rush he went to grab it.

"No, ya don't – _littl' filth_!" screeched Snaga, and he threw himself forward, grabbing onto Sam's ankle and attempting to haul him back into the struggle.

"Get your stinkin' hands off me!" ordered Sam, kicking out with his free foot in an effort to free himself from the orc's clutches. He made one last effort to reach Sting before he was dragged away from it and found himself beneath Snaga.

"Intruder! Intruder!" the orc howled, holding down Sam's arms and wrists to the ground as he squirmed.

Pattering, clomping footsteps came next on the rungs of the old ladder, rushing towards the scene. Sam heard snarls and mutters before he felt stronger, clammy hands hold him down further to the floor, making it almost impossible to move.

"Let me go, or I'll 'ave you!" he threatened, but his courageous threat seemed drowned in their ears as they whispered and bickered amongst themselves. One of the orcs spotted Sting lying not too far away and went over to it, scooping it up in it's greedy palms.

"Oy, that's Mr. Frodo's, there!" Sam yelled angrily. "Leave it alone!"

At these words, Sam remembered his beaten master and turned to look at him lying in the corner, blood oozing from his whip wheals; his eyelids fluttered shut. He looked peaceful from a distance away, but his expression clearly showed pain.

_Oh, Frodo...Frodo...how could I let them do this to you? I'm so sorry, Frodo...please forgive me – please forgive your Sam..._

Snaga and another orc made their way over to Frodo and slipped their hands underneath his arms and back, hoisting him up into a sitting position. Frodo's head lolled about a little on his neck. Snaga eagerly brushed Frodo's fringe of chocolate locks from his eyes, the hungry expression back again.

"Stop it," Sam growled, noticing the look and delivering his threat only to Snaga.

"Better give 'im some o' that draught," brought up the other orc, who was dragging Frodo to the wall. "That should wake the rodent up."

Snaga nodded but made no reply. He was still eyeing Frodo's most private areas with his beady, cruel eyes. He licked his lips again and followed his helper. "Sure thing, Sharbag," he murmured sinisterly, stroking Frodo's shoulder with a claw. "'Ow bout you go get some, eh? I'll...watch over this one while yer gone – "

"NO!" Sam cried out, spotting the body language and struggling desperately beneath the weight of the other orcs, the only thing in his mind of Frodo and that greasy orc touching his body. The idea of Snaga doing things to Frodo in the tower caused his skin to crawl – it was practically killing him inside! "Don't touch him – _stop it_!"

They laughed.

"Shut that one up, will ya, Nazurk?" Sharbag called back to the tallest of the orcs, who seemed to have an undesirable need to hold Sam down by his neck, every now and then giving it a tiny squeeze. "'E's givin' me a thumpin' head, that one. Search 'im too, we don't want any more sharp things lyin' around."

The Hobbit froze, feeling the weight increase around his neck, the silver chain turning as cold as his blood. _No – the Ring! **The Ring! **_

Sam jolted. "N – !"

A blunt pain throbbed at the base of Sam's head and he found that they had taken his sight and his memory at that single blow. Everything blacked out and Sam felt nothing more, except that he could hear Frodo's weak and weary voice calling out to him from somewhere – as if they were in a misty fog:

_"Sam...how could you...? How could you...?"_

Sam had been captured.

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N:** Sorry that it's taken me so long to write anything new, I've been through a few problems in the last month. Anyway, please tell me what you think? I've had this idea for a while now and I hope it goes well. 


	2. Chapter One: Memories

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

-:-xXx-:-

**Kaewi: **Yay, my first review! does dance I'm a fan of Frodo angst myself, but Sam angst can be very interesting too (as I'm learning in this story), there will be plenty angsty-Frodo-stuff coming in the following chapters, though. blushes Oops, you're right, I messed that line up a bit, but it's fixed now, so thanks for pointing that out! bows

**Lasrai: **Thanks! Here is more for you to read!

**Iorhael: **Thank you for your review! I wouldn't say my work is brilliant but it is improving, that's a definite! I hope you enjoy the rest!

**Amrunofthesummercountry: **o.0 big gasp YOU! I've read most of your stories – they're _awesome!!! _Thanks for reviewing, those orcs are gonna get pretty nastier in chapters to come, I hope you'll read more! Hehehe, I have a talent for writing evil folk? evil smile Perhaps cos I'm evil myself, mwaahaha...Lol. If you're a Sam fan then you may like this chapter, I hope. Enjoy!

-:-xXx-:-

**Category:** Lord of the Rings  
**Genre:** Drama/Horror/Angst  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary: **AU –Includes torture, rape and abuse- (Frodo/Sam.) Sam is captured in his attempt to rescue Frodo from the tower. The Ring is in danger of being discovered and the orcs want revenge.

-:-xXx-:-

**Bleeding Scars**

**Chapter One: Memories **

-:-xXx-:-

Hid behind red veils were the chocolate brown of Sam's eyes. He fluttered them open to give his sight a chance, and blurred colours of greys and blacks and greens swirled in front of him.

And then the pain returned, like a hammer repeatedly drumming into the base of his neck. He stirred and groaned. What had happened? Where was he? He blinked to regain more consciousness, inspecting his surroundings.

It was then that he felt something firm and biting surrounding his wrists, rough and cruel as it seared flesh and skin. He winced lightly and looked down in horror at his bound hands and his exposed arms. He swallowed as he stared down at himself – he was bare also, aside from the breeched trousers that covered his hips. He glanced around the cold room and spotted another figure bound and captured also, slumped against the wall, his head tilted back on his naked body.

Then he remembered.

"Frodo!" he whispered, feeling as if he had just been stabbed in the heart. "Frodo, it's me – your Sam!"

Frodo didn't move.

Sam frowned. The room was empty and he and his master were the only ones here, that must mean that the orcs must have gone somewhere for a while. Frodo seemed to be unconscious still. Perhaps their tormentors had disappeared for the draught they had been talking about.

This might be the only time that Sam could talk to him.

His ankles were bound too, so it was rather difficult to make his way over to the corner. Shuffling and edging closer every second, he made it close enough so that he would be able to touch Frodo's shoulder if his arms happened to be free. He gently nudged Frodo's arm with his elbow instead.

Still, Frodo didn't budge.

"Mr Frodo, please wake up," Sam hissed, hoping that the orcs would not return as soon as he thought. "It's all right now, the orcs have gone. It's just me with you – I won't hurt you none, you know that."

It was silent for a while, and Sam continued to gently attempt to rouse Frodo. For a moment, it all seemed lost when there came no reply, but then, in the still quiet, a small sigh breathed through Frodo's lips and his brow furrowed a little.

"Sam...?" he croaked, his voice as misty and transparent as the wind.

"It's all right, Mr Frodo," Sam repeated, a small smile of relief lighting up his heart. "It's all right, I'm here."

What came next quite shocked him. A muffled sob whimpered from Frodo's lips – although it was the quietest sound that could have been heard. "O, Sam..," he sighed. "Sam...you're here. I...I thought it was a dream..."

Sam looked at Frodo's face. His eyelids were still tightly closed, as if he were protecting the blueness from anything that he feared would harm. Small clusters of bruises stroked his cheek and the wheals along his back caused a shiver to run down Sam's spine. They were open and bleeding, a red source of blood running from one of them. Frodo's wrists were chafed and raw from them rubbing against the rough rope.

_To think that these monsters have done this to him, _Sam thought bitterly. _What else have they got in store? _

A few tears clouded Sam's vision. "No, it weren't a dream, Mr Frodo," he replied, moving as close as he could to his master's side, and gently took Frodo's bound hands between his, softly kissing them. "I'm here with you. Don't you worry; we're going to get out of here."

Frodo shivered. "I'm so cold..."

Sam shifted next to Frodo's side and lifted his arms, looping them around Frodo's neck and pulling him close, their bare chests touching and giving body heat. Sam felt Frodo's heart pounding weakly against his, and he carefully caressed his master's shoulder with his fingers. The Hobbit trembled in his arms and he planted a gentle kiss in Frodo's dark curls.

"It's all right," he told him again, breathing in the smoky scent from his locks.

"They never let me be, Sam..." he heard Frodo murmur sadly, his tone breaking. "Always watching me...touching me..._fondling _me..."

"Sssshhh," hushed Sam, pressing a small kiss onto Frodo's smooth forehead and murmuring against it. "Don't you worry none; I won't let them touch you again."

Frodo pressed his cheek against Sam's chest. "It's humiliating..." she confessed with a shiver.

Gentle, callused fingertips touched the base of his neck as Sam felt a burn of rage flicker in his heart at the thought of his Frodo brought to shame in front of all of these terrible, disgusting orcs. What else could they have done to him if he hadn't come here in time? He remembered what Snaga had been doing when he had entered the room:

"_So **smooth...** "Why don't I keep ya all to myself – be my own littl' toy to play with...?" _

_The touch of his long, greasy claws forcing open Frodo's legs and stroking him all over, caressing and tickling and fondling...cradling his thighs in his hands, poking him in all the wrong places, the places where Sam knew Frodo didn't like to be touched. _

"_Don't move, now."_

_Frodo's bonds around his ankles being cut and the Hobbit forced to roll onto his front, strong hands holding him down as he struggled to stand up and escape. Dirty claws stroking over the wheals in his back and causing him to cry out in anguish. _

"_Stop squirmin' – just **stay**...**still**..."_

_Snaga's oily hips rocking against Frodo's body and delving deep into his soul...Frodo's smooth fingers opening and stretching in pain as sobs and screams echoed around the room...his toes curling and clenching against the stone floor as the orc moved faster..._

"_Look 'ow you bleed, scum."_

_The salty tears that coated Frodo's cheeks and hit the floor...Frodo staggering to stand up but the weight of Snaga's body holding him down stopped him...the weeps flooding from Frodo's lips and the cries that brought pity to all those who heard it..._

"_Sam – **Sam**!"_

"Sam?"

The thought faded as Sam shook the dirt and filth of it from his mind, and he looked down at Frodo, who was still safely nestled in Sam's clutches, his eyes closed and his face peaceful. Frodo breathed gently and cuddled further into Sam's warm, brown skin, kissing it gently.

"What's the matter, Sam?"

"Nothin', nothin'," Sam muttered, wrapping his hands around Frodo again and pulling him even closer, as if he didn't even want the air around them to touch his master. He wanted to protect him from any dirt and grime in the world, and keep him clean and preserved and beautiful forever, like the jewel that he was.

Frodo felt his chest tighten. "I wish we were back in the Shire again, Sam," he mumbled, his words silenced by Sam's skin. "I know you must be tired of hearing me say that, but – "

"No, no," Sam answered quickly. "I...never tire of you talking, Mr Frodo. I love hearin' your voice."

Frodo smiled weakly. His body twitched as if he suddenly remembered something, and his face fell with his heart. Then suddenly, he gazed at the floor, his shoulders trembling as his body wracked with sobs.

"Oh, sir!" Sam gasped, feeling tears of his own spring at the sound of Frodo's misery. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Sam...I've failed everyone," he wept, burying his face in the crook of Sam's arm. "The orcs have the Ring, Sam – they must have taken it from me! O, listen to me, I talk of returning to our peaceful Shire, and settling down with you once again, and because of me its green hills will be no more than a memory!" Tears fell onto Sam's wrists.

Sam looked away. "That's not true, now, sir."

"What do you mean?"

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew that what he was about to tell Frodo was not to be taken lightly, as he was unsure how he would react. However, it was either tell him now and take the blame, or not tell him at all and make him think it was all his fault.

"_I _took the Ring from you, Mr Frodo, beggin' your pardon," he explained, feeling Frodo's eyes boring into him even though that they weren't open. "I thought you were dead, see? And...I took it from you – but I was comin' back for you after, and – "

Sam's words were cut short when he felt soft, velvet fingers place themselves onto his lips, silencing him. Sam glanced up and saw that he was staring into the elegant, rippled pools of purest blue that were Frodo's eyes. They seemed to be sympathetic, but there were also sparks of pain hidden there.

"I understand, Sam," he whispered, hoping that his regret didn't shine through. "I am not disappointed in you. This is not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it is me."

Sam frowned in confusion.

"I was desperate to destroy that curséd Ring forever," Frodo sighed, glancing away with his eyes and gently stroking Sam's skin. "I shouldn't have been so careless, Sam...I should have noticed her behind me..."

Sam laid another kiss, this time, on Frodo's bruised cheek. "Hush, now," he comforted, brushing a few raven locks from his master's eyes. "We're here together now, and I won't let them hurt you again, Frodo. I promise."

Suddenly he felt warm lips graze his delicately, as Frodo turned his cheek towards Sam so that they connected together. Frodo's bound hands opened, as if they were a flower that had just bloomed in the early weeks of May, and they cupped Sam's chin as he delivered the gesture. His eyes closed as he kissed Sam's warm lips.

"Sam..." he murmured against them.

The Hobbit returned the kiss gratefully, the tears that had formed before spilled out of the corners and silvered his cheeks. He pulled Frodo closer to his body so that they could be closer than he had imagined they could be in this way.

Kissing Frodo brought everything back to him: the early mornings in Bag End as Bilbo had disappeared to the market for his errands, and the way that Frodo would let Sam inside with that longing, dangerous look in his eyes. It was a look of desire.

Sam would always have that oncoming fear of Bilbo returning earlier than usual and catching them together in the act. He knew that Bilbo would inform his father of such behaviour, and how would Sam be able to face his Gaffer at news that he had been cavorting with Bilbo's heir?

Every time they met they were always full of hope and passion: the way that Frodo let drop Sam's braces from his shoulders and then stole his lips in a secret kiss, removing his own shirt buttons and then dropping it to the floor; the way that Sam ran his rough hands over Frodo's milky white skin and carried him into the bedroom; the way that they used to touch with their curious fingers in just the right places and the way that they made love together, with the sheets tangled around their legs as they moved with their hips grinding deeply.

Sam knew that Frodo often liked to be on top. The sheets would be pulled over their heads and that would be their whole world. Just sweat and cum and heat. It was perfect.

Loud footsteps interrupted everything and they abruptly pulled themselves apart, unable to move from where they were as they didn't wish to leave each other's side. They stared in horror as two orcs came up the rungs of the ladder, one of them carrying a canister filled with liquid.

They stared at them. Finally, they fixed on Sam.

"Oy, you scumbag!" Grimlok growled, his ugly scarred face sneering at him. "Who told ya t'move?! Ge' back where you should be!"

Sam said nothing but squeezed Frodo's hand.

"Tha' one's awake now," muttered Sharbag, carrying the lather pouch that shook when he moved it, gaping at Frodo. "An' I bought this stuff up 'ere to wake 'im."

"Give it to 'im anyways," Grimlok snarled. "'E looks like 'e could use a littl'."

Sam felt the spark of fury light up his senses again at the cruel words the orcs were inflicting. He stared at Frodo for any sign of reaction: nothing. He seemed to be in a world of his own, a world where he could escape these creatures in mind if he was not capable of doing it in body. Sam took charge.

"Don't you come near him, you miserable things!" he shouted angrily, speaking with his heart and courage as he so often did. "He don't need anything – he's _fine_!"

"Shut up with ya squealin', rat!" Grimlok ordered, his black eyes invading Sam's. "Keep yer mouth closed, or you'll get a helpin' yerself!"

Sharbag moved closer to Frodo, the cork unplugged from the pouch. The look on his face was nothing short of amused. To him it was just a big game.

Frodo's eyes widened at the sight of the fluid and backed further away against the wall, trying to fall into Sam's arms where he knew he would be safe. "No..._no..._!" he gasped out. "No, please!"

"Frodo, jus' spit it out!" Sam called out to him, but before he could say anything else he found that strong, muscled arms were carrying him to the other side of the room.

"It don't concern _you_, littl' scum!" Grimlok barked, as he held onto the struggling Hobbit tightly so as not to let him escape. He held down Sam's arms so that he wouldn't have a chance to hit him or bite. To Sam it was torture. To be held back when his Frodo needed him the most!

"_Frodo_!" Sam cried to him, fighting wildly against his captor. "Don't you drink it – _spit it out_!"

But to his horror he saw Sharbag holding Frodo down to the floor on his back, despite pleas and chokes from him as the thick, black liquid was forced down his throat and into his chest. Frodo coughed and choked on the vile drink, wincing and gasping in shock as the fire lit up inside of his stomach, bringing his eyes to open wide.

"Stop it!" Sam ordered, struggling against his bonds and causing the rope to bite at his skin. "Look at him – _it's hurtin' him_! Leave 'im alone!"

"'E's fine, aren't ya, littl' mousey?" jeered Sharbag as he delivered a kick into Frodo's ribs, who was lying there curled into himself, waiting for the smoulder to die away. He cried out in pain, but then lay still, beaten. Tears hit the floor.

Sam's heart broke. "Frodo."

"C'mon, you," Sharbag beckoned to Grimlok. "Better get the others and the equipment, eh? We're gonna need it, gotta take care of some..." he glared at Sam, and then stared down at the silenced Frodo. "...pest control."

And then they were gone, chuckling and guffawing to themselves over their bullish ways, Grimlok not forgetting to spit on Frodo's shattered skin as they scrambled down the ladder and out of sight. Their cruel taunts could still be heard in the echoes of the castle.

Sam burst into tears. "Oh, Frodo," he whispered, scrambling back to his place where Frodo lay, his eyes closed against any harm with tears on his eyelashes. He was trembling all over with fright.

Gently, Sam raised his head and slipped it into his lap, finger combing his hair and cradling him, stroking away the pain. "Ssshh," he hushed, his voice choked. "Everythin' will be okay, Mr Frodo...you'll see. We're goin' to get out of here somehow."

Frodo sighed.

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N:** Sorry that it's taken me so long to write anything new, I've been through a few problems in the last month. Anyway, please tell me what you think? I've had this idea for a while now and I hope it goes well. 


	3. Chapter Two: Cracking

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

-:-xXx-:-

**Kaewi: **Yay, my first review! does dance I'm a fan of Frodo angst myself, but Sam angst can be very interesting too (as I'm learning in this story), there will be plenty angsty-Frodo-stuff coming in the following chapters, though. blushes Oops, you're right, I messed that line up a bit, but it's fixed now, so thanks for pointing that out! bows

**Lasrai: **Thanks! Here is more for you to read!

**Iorhael: **Thank you for your review! I wouldn't say my work is brilliant but it is improving, that's a definite! I hope you enjoy the rest!

**Amrunofthesummercountry: **o.0 big gasp YOU! I've read most of your stories – they're _awesome! _Thanks for reviewing, those orcs are gonna get pretty nastier in chapters to come, I hope you'll read more! Hehehe, I have a talent for writing evil folk? evil smile Perhaps cos I'm evil myself, mwaahaha...Lol. If you're a Sam fan then you may like this chapter, I hope. Enjoy!

**Chickloveslotr:** Yes, it is rather sad, but I'm glad you like it! hugs

**Space Case:** Thanks for your review! Ok, you twisted my arm, here's another chapter.

**Llang:** Thank you!

**PhoenixRaider:** Thank you for your kind review! You should read more LotR fanfics, you know, there are some really good ones!

**bitch, rape ain't a plot:** My, you have a bizarre name. Ok, I get the point, you didn't like the story, but please don't insult me. My story is nothing like the one that you described. There is a different kind of "sick", and mine is not the one that you are describing. You are describing toilet humour, not an act. I accept flames, but usually only those with constructive criticism. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time.

**British Child:** Thank you very much for your review! I like to experiment with more of Frodo's tortured side, because of the way that I come across sometimes...I like to place my feelings into some of the characters I write. Perhaps that is why you say I write it well, yes? chuckles Just a guess. hugs

-:-xXx-:-

**Bleeding Scars**

**Chapter Two: Cracking**

-:-xXx-:-

"_In western lands beneath the Sun_

_The flowers may rise in Spring,  
The trees may bud, the waters run,_

_The merry finches sing. _

Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night  
And swaying beeches bear  
The Elven-stars as jewels white  
Amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey's end I lie  
In darkness buried deep,  
Beyond all towers strong and high,  
Beyond all mountains steep,

Above all shadows rides the Sun  
And Stars forever dwell,"

Frodo flickered his eyes open at the sound of the soft melody that reached his ears, hearing Sam's voice drift gently over to him, seeming to sooth without touching. Frodo's tired eyes stared upwards and smiled at the gardener.

Sam readied himself to complete the song, but as he did, he heard a small, quiet voice join him – slightly exhausted but with a beautiful ringing of silver bells hanging in the cords:

"_I will not say the Day is done,  
Nor bid the Stars farewell."_

Soft, brown rays of sunlight gazed down at the pale one lying in their arms, forcing a weak smile and looking magnificent, even in the darkest of times and with hardly any strength left. It was like the first patch of snow that always looked beautiful, no matter how many had walked upon it.

"Frodo," Sam whispered, cradling his master in his arms and gently kissing his forehead. "You're awake."

Frodo stretched feebly in the protecting arms, yawning a little, as if Sam had just awoken him from a deep slumber on a Midsummer's Day, ready to greet the morn and the sun.

_There is no sun here._

"Singing," Frodo murmured sleepily, staring deep into the cores of Sam's chocolate irises. "You were singing – "

"I'm sorry if I woke you, sir," muttered Sam, brushing back a few of Frodo's ebony curls with his fingers, wiping the dirt from all of the creases and seething them away. "I meant no – "

Frodo pressed his cheek against Sam's shoulder, feeling the warmth vibrate through the skin and enter his own. "It was beautiful," he sighed.

"Now, Mr Frodo," replied Sam, hoisting Frodo gently with crimson lining his cheeks. "You shouldn't really say things that aren't true, now."

Frodo didn't reply. Instead he wove his nimble fingers into Sam's touch and accepted it as his own. He trickled them across the cold floor and shivered again, violently. With a deep sigh he hoisted himself into a sitting position against the wall, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of the bruise highlighting his torso.

Sam groaned. "Curse those orcs." He stared down at his wrists and shifted them, in an attempt to release them from the rope. "They had no right to do that to you, Mr Frodo."

Frodo said nothing. He continued to gaze at the wall opposite, longingly groping the space of flesh that once held the Ring close. A mysterious look burned in his eyes.

"We have to get of here somehow," Sam muttered, gazing around at the black roof and the muddy stone walls. "If we weren't tied t'might be a little easier, though. Those orcs might come back before we even think about it."

"Let them come," grumbled Frodo in a hollow voice.

Sam stared at him. "What?"

His master faced him with a bleeding lip, fire burning in his eyes. "They already have the Ring," he whispered, rather harshly. "What point is left in this journey?" He turned away.

"Mr Frodo – we can't just sit here and let them do what they like with us!" Sam protested, continuing to struggle with his bonds. "Lor' knows what they'll do!"

Silence.

Sam frowned a little, more out of confusion than anything. How could his master just sit there and claim not to do anything? They could still get out – they could be free! Perhaps they could snatch the Ring back and destroy it once and for all!

"We can't just give up," Sam said, almost to himself. "There _has _to be a way out."

"This isn't a game, Sam," Frodo suddenly snapped, in a cold, calm voice. "Perhaps there _isn't _a way out. Perhaps everything _is _forsaken. What is the use of fighting back when there is nothing to fight for?"

"What about our _lives_?" Sam insisted, boring his eyes into Frodo's. "I thought _they _were important enough to fight for, now!"

Frodo sighed, staring at his bound feet. "Sam," he started, almost too slowly. "The only reason why I continued with this struggle was for the goodness that would come forth. I didn't think about my own life, only the ones of others. Why should I think of my own soul when I have betrayed everyone else?"

"Well, I'm thinkin' of yours!" Sam argued, moving closer to Frodo and holding his tied hands in his. "I'm _always _thinkin' of it!"

"Well, don't!" Frodo growled, wrenching his fingers from Sam's grasp. "I don't need your pity, Sam! I don't need _anything_!"

A little taken aback, Sam sat and stared at Frodo. All at once, he could see some things that he had not noticed before. Some things that were different. Dark circles of exhaustion had embraced his master's eyes, and allowed them to appear lost...lost and enclosed in darkness. The sapphires hidden away seemed to glow, but only when they were enraged and burned with a blue flame.

_He seems so angry with me, _Sam realised. _But I don't know what I did to make 'im angry. _

"I don't pity you," Sam murmured quietly, in case he angered his master again. "I love you."

Frodo sighed, waves of guilt crashing against his heart. He turned away again. "I don't see how."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but froze when he heard growls and footsteps on the rungs of the ladder. He gasped and backed up against Frodo, who merely sat there as if nothing was happening.

"I won't let them hurt you, Frodo," Sam whispered to him, but Frodo didn't reply. Sam couldn't decide if he had heard him, or was choosing not to.

Grimlok's foul head poked through the hole in the floor, and his cruel eyes lit up at the sight of the two bound Hobbits in the corner. "We got a lil' surprise for you," he smirked, climbing out and staring down at them.

"Don't you touch 'im!" Sam shouted bravely at their tormentor, his hand slipping through Frodo's arm, holding him close. "You lay a finger on 'im and – !"

Instead, Grimlok merely laughed. "Keep yer mouth shut, scumbag!" he spat, baring his teeth at the Hobbit. "Yer not in a position to take orders, here."

Sam looked desperately at the numb Frodo, who seemed to be a million miles away, in another world of his own. Surely, these orcs wouldn't hurt Frodo in any way! What did they want him for? They _had _the Ring!

"What d'you want with us!" Sam cried, clenching his fists. "Y'got what you wanted, why do this?"

They guffawed cruelly.

"Sport," came another orc's voice, Akhrásh, who was appearing at the top of the ladder with a long whip slung across his chest. Scars ran deep over his slimy body, and he smiled, teeth menacingly glowing through the black lips. "We ain't had some action f'a while, about time we did, eh?"

Sam couldn't believe his ears. What was the point of hurting them so? For fun?

"Please," Sam started, thinking quickly. "If that's the way it has t'be, then use me for your sport. Don't keep my master here – let Frodo go. He's been through enough, now...he don't need this!"

Frodo turned his head slowly, gazing at Sam. A strange, almost unbelieving look shimmered in his eyes. Sam was willing to sacrifice himself through so much pain and anguish, just so Frodo would not be touched!

He found no words to speak.

The orcs looked at each other for a moment, but then glared down at him.

"Y'think we're that stupid, d'ya?" Grimlok barked. "We know th'second yer friend is loose, he'll run off for reinforcements! 'E won't keep yer capture secret!" He smiled horribly at the naked Frodo. "Nah. 'E stays."

"He won't do that!" Sam protested, scrambling to his knees. "Please, just let 'im go!"

"Shut up!" Grimlok growled, kicking Sam in the knee and causing him to stumble to the floor again. "We said 'e's stayin', and that's just what e's doin', so pipe down!"

"Besides," hissed Akhrásh, a malevolent, mocking gleam highlighting in his eyes. "Snaga wouldn't take kindly ta'that, would 'e, now?" He directed his question to Grimlok, with a smarmy wink.

Grimlok sneered. "Nah, 'e wouldn't. 'E's taken," he looked Frodo's pale body up and down, "A likin' to that one, there."

Sam burned with anger at their laughter.

"Hold tha'one down," Grimlok ordered fiercely to Akhrásh, glaring at Sam with hatred alive in his words. "'E's gettin' on my nerves, already."

Sam's body went cold. He budged backwards with aching limbs, desperately urging for the feel of the wall against his back. If only his hands weren't tied, he would give these orcs more than what they were bargained for! And now...now they were going to _torture_ him!

But before he could say anything, he heard Frodo's voice, rising from the shadows after such a long rest.

"No, no!" his master cried, panic trembling from his form. "Please, no! Do not harm Sam! I beg you!"

_No, Frodo! _Sam found himself thinking, _I'd rather take it than you! _

"It's all right, Mr Frodo," Sam muttered to him, seeing the orc staggering closer. "You jus' stay there – I don't want them hurtin' you!"

Frodo frowned, seizing Sam's arm to drag him away. "No, Sam!" he ordered, staring directly into Sam's eyes. "Let it be me – I could handle the pain! I fear for you...please do not do this, let it be _me_!"

"You've been through enough!" came Sam's bellow, in a voice that was not recognised by either of them. It announced itself with such viciousness that Frodo unwillingly released him, slightly taken aback.

"Come on!" Akhrásh snarled, brutally taking Sam's arm and hauling him to his feet. "Haven't got all day!"

"Get off of me!" Sam growled, struggling to wrench his arm from out of the creature's grasp, his feet flying to deliver kicks unsuccessfully.

Everything all seemed to be happening in a different world. Sam didn't feel like he was someone about to be scourged from limb to limb, but rather watching himself fall witness to it. He felt numb, and could barely make out the shattered pleas coming from Frodo across the room.

_Rather me than you, Mr Frodo, _was the only thing he could think of, as he fought back still, his stubborn heart not ready to give in.

"Hold 'im down!" he thought he heard Grimlok shout, and all at once he felt his knees give way, and the side of his face connected painfully to the cold, stone floor. Strong arms held his down and yet still he struggled.

Frodo's voice became louder; he could hear him clearly now, mingled with the sound of his rushing heart and his harsh breaths.

"Sam! Sam! O, please – don't do this! _Please_!"

_Crack! _

Sam felt his eyes squeeze themselves shut, his teeth clenching against an unstoppable scream that climbed from his throat. A strong, stinging pain, like hot fire, raged across the skin of his back, burning away all the senses. This hurt so much! How he wished it would stop! But still, he kept thinking the same thing:

_Rather me than you, Mr Frodo. _

The long, slender whip raised itself again for another attack.

"_Sam_! No! Oh, don't hurt him anymore..._please! Please_! I beg you – **_please_**!"

_Crack! _

Another bolt of white, hot pain sprinted across Sam's spine, cindering the flesh. He didn't even realise that tears were leaking from his eyes until he felt them on his cheeks.

_Rather me than you, Frodo. _

"Again!" he heard Grimlok yell.

The sound of Frodo's weeping. "Release him – _please_! _Please_! Take me, instead!"

_Crack! _

Sam heard another scream emit from his mouth, followed by a strangled sob. His fingers clenched at the cracks in the floor.

_Rather me than you, Frodo. _

"This will teach yer some respect, scum!"

"Curse you!" Frodo yelled wildly, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Curse all of you – **_damn you_**!"

_Slap! _The sound of Grimlok striking Frodo across the jaw to silence him.

Frodo's cry of pain.

_Crack! _

Sam groaned, bitter sobs clawing at his throat; the wave of fresh pain coursing through his skin.

_Rather me, than you, love. _

"Faster!"

"**_Sam_!"**

_Crack! Crack!_

_Rather me than you, Frodo._

_Crack! Crack! Crack! _

"Oh, _Sam_! Sam..."

_Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!_

_Rather me than you. _

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N:** Sorry that it's taken me so long to write this chapter, was caught up with work for a while, and I thought it was time to deal with the dark stuff. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter Three: Blood on the Walls

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

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**Anouch**: I'm glad you liked the Frodo/Sam stuff, during the planning of this story I managed to experiment more with it, and it's become one of my favourite pairings now ;p Here's the next chapter

**Shelley1924**: OO The last thing I want is to be accused of murder for someone reading this story...Lol! Escape? Well, we'll just have to wait and see about that one. Thanks for reviewing and hope you enjoy this chapter!

-:-xXx-:-

**Bleeding Scars**

**Chapter Three: Blood on the Walls**

-:-xXx-:-

"Sam? Sam! Oh, Sam...can you hear me?"

_Frodo's voice..._he thought blearily, blurred visions dancing before his eyes. His head spun and he felt the sudden desire to vomit. Where was he? What had happened? As he began to come to, he felt cold, spiteful stone beneath his hands and his bare elbows. _Frodo...Frodo...why is he here?_

"Frodo...?" he croaked, attempting to sit up. "Wha...?"

"No, Sam! Don't move," whispered the elder hobbit, shifting next to him with his bound hands, his pale cheeks chapped from past tears being spilt. "Stay still...you'll hurt yourself."

It was then that Sam felt the burning rush of poker-hot pain rampage across his back like sandpaper, and he remembered everything. He remembered how the orcs had held him down, scourging his back until there was barely any skin left. He remembered Frodo screaming from the other end of the room – screaming for his Sam not to be harmed.

_I must've passed out, _he thought, suppressing a hiss at the agony running through the rivers of crimson blood that poured down his back. His back felt stiff and course – raw – , and he noticed with annoyance that the cuts were beginning to crust into harsh scabs of dried gore. _It must have hurt tha' much..._

His hazy vision darted suddenly to Frodo, who was on his knees with his bonds bound, blowing shaky breaths onto Sam's back, in a will to dull the pain a little. "D-did they hurt you, sir...?" he whispered, reaching out blindly for his master's swollen jaw, where Grimlok had struck him earlier.

"No, Sam," said Frodo, in a distant voice.

"I couldn't let them hurt you, none, sir...they were goin' to..."

"I know," Frodo interrupted, his words quivering a little, like a wave of battle trying to remain strong. A few tears spilled out of the corners of his eyes, and he gently – carefully – placed his cheek against the brown skin of Sam's back, his lip trembling from the unfairness of it all.

"O, Sam...my Sam," he sobbed. "What have they done to you?"

"Don't you cry, now, sir," murmured Sam through a dull smile, taking Frodo's chin in his fingers and gently pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his master's bleeding lips. He could taste the running salt on his tongue, and it brought tears of his own. His newly-bound hands wanted to cup Frodo's beautiful face and kiss all of those tears away...banish them forever, so his master would be smiling again.

"This is my fault," said Frodo quietly, against his lover's lips. "The torment they inflicted on you...it was _my _doing..."

"Don't talk like that," Sam cut in, capturing Frodo's lips in another endearing kiss. "None of this is your fault, now. If anyone is to blame, it's that Gollum...or that terrible Ring of his."

At the word "Ring", Frodo's sapphire eyes danced in flame and his body drew stiff. His lashes blinked against the flesh of Sam's cheek as he thought of that magnificent, golden band that lay so warm...so _heavily, _in his hand on those long, lonely nights. The way It had whispered to him...sweetly, seductively...the way It had said that Frodo _belonged _to It.

He wanted to hear that again. That sultry sounding voice...those precious words...the round, smooth edges that brought everything together into one package – he wanted to _scream! _Scream because, now, he knew that it was too late to do anything! The orcs had the Ring, and everything from now until the end was _hopeless_!

He said nothing, but allowed Sam to continue kissing his bruised lips whilst his mind strayed away into another land. A land where nothing terrible had ever happened and he controlled it all. He was the bringer of peace. Sam had never been hurt. They were not captured in this dank tower. They were both making love beneath the stars, in the cornflower fields.

"_O, Sam...I love you..."_

"_I've always loved you, me dear...always – **ohhh**!"_

The Ring was burning furiously in their clasped palms, entwined by the chain that trickled over Frodo's neck. Sam was sobbing. Frodo kissed away the tears and tasted blood. He opened his eyes and suddenly, he was back in the real world...in Cirith Ungol.

_Smack!_

Frodo was sent hurdling to the floor, viscous grazes staining his skin. He heard Sam bellowing from the other end of the room.

"Frodo! _Frodo_! Don't y'touch him!"

The hobbit blinked and shook his head a little, finally breaking free of his daydream. To his horror, he noticed that the orcs, Grimlok and Akhrásh, had returned, and they were guffawing at Sam's blatant cries and the dazed, broken look on Frodo's face.

"'Bout time!" roared Grimlok, cracking his knuckles. "Wondered what was up wi' him fo' a moment! Lik' a few good 'it's round the face did nothin' for 'im!"

Blood seeped into Frodo's mouth. The side of his face had been torn open by the brutality of the orcs. Sweat ran into the wound and stung. He winced and tried to scramble to his feet, but Akhrásh sent a harrowing kick into the edge of his ribs.

"Oh!" he doubled over in pain and crashed to the ground, his kneecaps smacking the hard floor. _This certainly isn't where I was earlier, _he thought bitterly, thinking of Sam's calloused fingers roaming areas of his body. Wheezing, he crawled onto his knees, making an effort to get his breath back.

"Leave 'im alone!" Sam cried, struggling in the corner where the orcs were taking it in turns to hold him back. "Get away from 'im!"

Frodo's heart sent off twinges of fragility as he noticed the dried welts on Sam's back reopening as he thrashed about. Sam didn't really seem to notice the pain, and if he did, then he didn't care. All he was interested in at this moment was his Frodo...lying there, being abused by the cruel behaviour of these orcs.

Frodo had barely risen to his knees when Akhrásh kicked him again – harder this time. The hobbit gasped for breath and was sent colliding into the wall, smashing his head upon the stone. A loose cry wobbled from his lips at the force.

"_Stop it!" _Sam screamed, his voice breaking. He attempted to free something – _anything_ – just so he could lash out at these demonic things...but they were far too strong for him. The pain weakened his muscles. He could do nothing else. Nothing else but scream for his poor master.

"_Frodo!" _

Frodo coughed and opened his aching lids. He saw blood coating his eyelashes. His head had been torn open from the collision, and now a large gash was visible amongst his ebony curls, soaking the silky hair with newly split wine. He groaned as he felt his head throb. Everything around him was spinning.

"Sam..."

_Whack! _Akhrásh threw a blinding punch into his already battered jaw, sending him careering to the ground. His wrists scraped together against the stone and he moaned in pain. He coughed and tasted blood. He felt it running down his chin. Panting for breath, he stared into the scarred, unforgiving face of his tormentor, tears mingling with the perspiration and sticky blood.

"Please..." he whispered, barely a sound.

_Smack! _Harder this time. Grimlok chuckled from the corner, still holding Sam tightly in his place, which wasn't easy, considering Sam was lashing about like a wild, rabid animal.

"Frodo! _Frodo_! **_Frodo_!"**

_Just let it end..._Frodo thought blindly, gripping the stone with bleeding fingers, trying to recover his breath, and bid away the numb feeling in his lungs. _Just...let them stop...please..._

"You'll kill 'im!" Sam yelled, in such a state. "Stop it – you'll _kill _'im!"

For some reason, that seemed to halt whatever they were doing. Sam didn't cease his struggling, but Grimlok had such a tight hold on him it was amazing that his circulation hadn't been strangled yet.

Akhrásh roared with laughter at the sight of Frodo's broken, bleeding body littering the floor. "Think I wen' too far?" he asked sarcastically, spitting near Frodo's bruised shoulder. Grimlok simply chuckled, and gave a sharp tug on Sam's hair to shut him up.

It didn't work. "Look what you've done t'him!" Sam wept, his voice like thunder. He couldn't take his eyes away from his master, who wasn't moving except for the occasional twitch now and again. Most of the welts in Sam's muscled back had spilled their blood again, only he didn't seem to feel it, as the pain of not being able to assist the one he loved was even greater.

"'E's not done with yet," sneered Akhrásh, reaching down and nudging Frodo with a black foot. "Wake up, ya stinkin' littl' rat – get on yer feet!"

Frodo didn't move. He _couldn't. _His whole body screeched in pain, even if he so much as moved a finger. Coughing and choking, he attempted to struggle onto his throbbing knees, his arms trembling. Blood was in his eyes and nose. He couldn't breathe. And when he tried to, it hurt.

He gazed up at Akhrásh, his eyes blazing with a terrible poison. Sam had never seen this look before, and it surprised him – if not frightened him. "_Don't...touch me..._" Frodo snarled, his lip curling. His knuckles were chipped and cut, oozing blood onto his slender hands.

Akhrásh sneered at him and grasped a handful of his dark hair in his fist. Frodo cried out, pain running through his scalp like a strong burn as he was hoisted onto his feet. Before he knew what was happening, his knees had buckled and Akhrásh had him in his arms, carrying him away from the floor and towards the rungs of the old ladder.

"Stop it! Let me go!" Frodo cried out, lunging out blind strikes with his bound ankles and hands, although it was like kicking plates of solid steel. "No – no! Let me go! _Sam_!" It was at this point that he reached out wildly with his cut fingers for some kind of contact with Sam, who fought like a mad thing to help the one he loved.

"Frodo! Frodo – no!"

"Sam! Help me! _Please_!" Sam couldn't bear the pleading tone he had hidden there.

"FRODO!"

"Keep quiet!" growled Grimlok, striking Sam viscously across the face. "There's nothin' y'can do, do quit yer whinin'! He's been broken down a littl', now he's all ready."

_Ready? _Sam thought wildly. _Ready for **what? **What are they goin' to **do **to him?_

Then, he felt the world spin. His blood curdled and he felt bile rush into his mouth as he remembered something.

"_Snaga wouldn't take kindly ta'that, would 'e, now?" _

"_Nah, 'e wouldn't. 'E's taken a likin' to that one, there."_

_Snaga..._Sam thought, feeling ill. _That orc when I first found Frodo...he was...he was tryin' to – _

"No – NO!" he screamed, thrashing wildly, never wanting to take his eyes away from his master's burning blue ones, brimming with beseeching words and tears of fear. He wasn't sure if Frodo understood where he was going or not – either way, he wanted to stay in the same room as his master, so he knew what was happening!

"Sam! Sam! _Please – **please**_**!"**

"Frodo – Frodo! _FRODO!" _

Akhrásh disappeared with the feisty hobbit, whose cries and shouts and screams were still heard, as he was carted down the tunnels towards wherever the filthy orc was taking him. The echoes rang back and struck Sam in his humble, fierce heart, causing it to crumble. He didn't want this to happen – not to Frodo! Hadn't he been hurt enough?

Why do this for someone else's pleasure? Frodo was innocent – _innocent_!

Sam swallowed and chewed on his lip, tasting salt.

_**Too **innocent, _he remembered, thinking back to all of the times that he and Frodo had ever made love together, wielding their bodies into one, like some kind of wild force of nature. He remembered Frodo on top of him. He had always touched with his hands and his mouth on his body but he had never...

_Oh, save 'im, _thought Sam, swallowing his fear. _He saved it. _

_He's pure. _

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N:** Whew! Sorry guys for the long wait for the update, but I've been real busy sorting out stuff from exams and things, I hope you liked it! Except more bad bad orc mischief soon


	5. Chapter Four: Lighten the Load

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

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**Iorhael:** Angst-lovers are the best ;0 Thanks for the review! Here be more angst!

**Anouch**: You'll find out if Sam saves him in this chapter...mwahaha, I torture these poor hobbitses ;p Hope you enjoy this, thanks for reviewing!

**Abby: **I understand where you're coming from, hun ;p Don't fret, I haven't given up on this, I was just really busy over the last few months and unfortunately had hardly any time to update –SOB- but as you can see I'm sorting that problem out :D F\S is tres interesting – I love their relationship, you no pathetico, I feel Sam's pain too, and I'm writing the blasting thing! LOL Thank you for your lovely review! Here's more for you!

**Lady Lalaith: **Best story EVER? O0 Thank you...but I very much doubt that...-Le BLUSHO- Stay alive please? I shall write more for you, and thank you for favouriting me! Hehe, enjoy!

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**Bleeding Scars**

**Chapter Four: Lighten the Load**

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The walls all around him were dripping with the noises of festered rainwater and greased slime. If the hobbit wasn't too busy screaming his lungs raw, he would have savoured his breath to block out the foul smell. He struggled in Akhrásh's strong, oily arms, kicking and thrashing as much as his bruised muscles could handle.

"SAM!" he yelled, his voice splintering, fear rising in his eyes. "Sam...Sam! PLEASE!" At that, he reached down to smack Akhrásh across the head after the orc hoisted him up onto his shoulder. "Put me down!"

As they passed through the dank sewers for halls, other orcs and handfuls of Uruk-hai witnessed the scene, smirking and hollering at the sight of the naked creature being hauled against his will for all to see.

Despite his struggling, Frodo could not help but feel very ashamed. It was almost as if he were a lamb to the slaughter – splayed out in front of them like a piece of meat.

"What've yer got 'ere then?" sneered an orc in a sinisterly teasing voice, appearing out of nowhere and travelling his beady eyes over the hobbit's body and staring evilly into his frightened blue eyes. He reached out a collection of claws and rubbed eagerly at poor Frodo's bare legs and opened welts.

"Don't touch me!" he gasped, attempting to draw himself in, away from any touch. "Stop it!"

But by this time, even Akhrásh was beginning to be encouraged by the orc's actions. He smirked, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth and, with the hand that he was using to support Frodo, stroked it over the hobbit's porcelain skin.

"Yeah, tasty lil' thing, ain't 'e?" he jeered, reaching his claws around Frodo's buttock and giving it a squeeze. "Pleasure holdin' 'im, jus' to feel right _'ere..._"

More random orcs began to crawl out of the stonework, eyeing the hobbit's body hungrily, persuaded by other's doings. "Ooh, give us a feel," they snarled, thousands of palms and claws grappling for a touch of smooth, Halfling flesh that they were so curious for.

Frodo, on the other hand, was absolutely disgusted. "Leave me alone!" he tried to cry out, although it was smothered by the calls and chortles of his tormentors. He thrashed and kicked, screaming through his torn throat, but it only seemed to encourage them all the more. "STOP IT!"

"Feisty, ain't 'e?" another orc giggled, moving behind Akhrásh and taking hold of Frodo's ankles, scratching his fingers across the sole of the hobbit's foot and placing them between the spaces of his toes, swivelling them around. "Ooh, would I love t'eat _you _up, juicy lil' thing!"

"Give 'im here," beckoned an orc, reaching around to stroke the insides of Frodo's thighs, dangerously moving upward. "We'll all 'ave a good time with 'im, won't we, boys?"

At this remark the orcs hooted and roared with mocking laughter. However, inside, Frodo felt his bone marrow freeze rigid. _Oh no, no, no...please, no – not that, **not that! **_He stared at them, wishing that he could die on the spot, or retreat into some corner of his mind...away from _this_!

"No, no – please!" he begged, struggling in Akhrásh's arms. "Please, no...leave me be!"

"Won't do yer no good fidgetin', rat," barked his captor, his foul breath killing Frodo's nostrils. "As much as these lads would _love _t'play with yer – " and at this, the crowd of orcs whistled and moved forward for another feel of flesh – "Yer wanted somewhere else."

"Where?" his voice was a demanding whisper.

"Don't worry, tiny elf," sneered Akhrásh, patting the hobbit's left buttock and stroking. "You'll like 'im." He winked. "'E sure takes a fancy t'_yer._"

Frodo's mind was racing; a mix of panic and desperate confusion. _Who? Who is it – why won't they tell me? Where is he taking me –what are they going to do! _He gazed around at all of the laughing, jeering monsters, shouting calls and whistling long and hard.

Deep, deep inside, he had a funny idea of what they were planning, and the thought terrified and revolted him. They had already informed that they would use him for sport...but not _this _kind of sport! It was simply wrong and disgusting – and he was refusing!

_I won't let them, _he told himself, attempting to be determined but it only sounded somewhat half-hearted. _I won't let them do anything to me – I was waiting until I was ready before anyone..._

_...I waited for Sam. _

"Let's go," snorted Akhrásh, hoisting Frodo up higher and carrying him away down the stairwell. "Someone wants t'say hello to yer."

-:-xXx-:-

"Oh – " gasped Frodo as he was rested back onto his feet, but then immediately shoved into a small, dungeon-like room, many levels below the tower that he was in earlier. He hit the floor with a horrible _smack, _shuddering from the cold that flowed from the room.

"'Ere you are," smiled Akhrásh, who was standing like a black silhouette in the doorframe. "E's all yours. Enjoy."

"Wait," panted Frodo, attempting to rise to his feet, even though his legs were stiff and trembling. "W-what am I...what are you going to do...?" Blood oozed from his bottom lip.

And then, almost an answer for him, a slow, drawling voice crawled from the shadows and addressed him, sounding very eager and excited at the sight that lay before him – all pale, smooth flesh and dark, glossy curls. Frodo heard it snicker.

"Mmm, why hello there," it oozed, stepping out of the shadows. "'Ave we met?"

_Yes, _thought Frodo with a stroke of dread. _Yes...this voice is familiar._

He recognised it as Snaga, the orc who had held him prisoner before Sam came barging to his rescue. He also remembered the slimy creature...touching him and fondling him in places only Sam was allowed to touch. Frodo swallowed, a bitter flavour in his mouth.

"Please, wait – " he started, making his steady way towards the door. He didn't want to stay here with this monster! He had to think of some way out.

_Slam! _The door clanged shut on it's chunky, iron rings with a huge _clang, _and for a moment, Frodo was thrown into a short stage of inky shadow. That was, until, he opened his eyes, and saw filtered, urine-stained light glimmering down from the crude windows wedged into the stone. He turned around and saw Snaga standing there, licking his black lips.

"No," Frodo growled, taking a step back. "Don't you _dare _touch me you..._you_ – !"

"Hush, littl' one," whispered Snaga, moving nearer. "_Hush, _now...yer safe with me. At last...I 'ave you all to m'self." He moved so close he made it possible for him and Frodo to be pressed up against the wall, skimming the skin of Frodo's thigh with the leathery hide of his own. "Ooh," he murmured, touching Frodo's cheek with a trace of his claw. "Such soft skin...jus' like a rose petal..."

"Don't..."

"I like the feel of yer..." he smiled, taking a handful of Frodo's leg and raking it softly with his nails, bringing it around behind and clenching the hobbit's buttock, squeezing forcefully. "Oh, yes...soft and _firm..._feels good," he leant in close, peering into those blue eyes and pressing the poor hobbit even further against the cold stone, until certain other areas of their bodies were touching.

"Mmmm..."

This was too much for Frodo. "No – Stop it!" he cried out, struggling and thrashing against the persistent beast with as much strength as his body was willing to offer him. "No! I will not let you do this to me! I _won't_!"

"Hush!" ordered Snaga passionately, grabbing hold of Frodo's bruised arm and pulling him close to his own body, peering into his face and moving his hand further downwards, groping at slick, dark hair and between thighs, a monstrous, famished glint in his yellow eyes. "You jus' stay quiet, now," he said quickly, with eagerness as he touched and rubbed, fully pleasured. "Jus' stay _so _very, very quiet..."

Frodo lashed out, striking and screaming as he tried to break free. "NO!"

"Hush, I said!" Snaga grasped hold of Frodo's hair fiercely, yanking his neck back, and causing Frodo to yelp in pain. "If yer don't shut yer trap, I'll scourge yer skin raw until yer bones creep through! That'll _really _give yer somethin' to scream about!"

Frodo said nothing but let a few silent tears fall. No matter what he did, he couldn't win. He would rather, if he had a choice, be robbed of his flesh rather than be invaded by this ruthless – and very unrelenting – orc. But, he was afraid that he would be whipped until he lost consciousness...and then who _knows _what he would do to him in that state.

He shook his head and reluctantly relaxed his muscles.

"Good," sneered Snaga, releasing his grip and reducing the pain. "Tha's better..._relax _yerself...lemme _touch _yer..." And, saying that, he used his oily body to pin Frodo's to the wall, letting his clawed hands trace over his prisoner's flesh with lustful moans, and whispers into his ear.

Frodo shuddered, but tried to ignore it. He knew full well what may happen, and he knew that he was not prepared for it. He didn't _want _it to happen, but he knew that it would possibly happen _anyway. _He didn't know what it would feel like, or what he would do when it happened. Still, he knew that as long as he kept telling himself that it would all be over soon, it would at least be something.

_Do not fear, Sam...it shall be over soon. _

"Ooh, yer so _smooth,_" chided Snaga, taking hold of Frodo's thighs and touching the areas inside them. "Jus' like silk...elf silk – come 'ere." He laced his hands around Frodo's hips and pulled him to his, slowly rubbing them up and down. "Yeah..._ooh, yeah..._all mine..."

Frodo squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go, and thought of Sam. _Sam...Sam, my love...I love **you, **Sam...only you..._

He felt cold floor beneath his back and looked up into the small eyes of the terrible beast, touching his smooth chest. He felt thick, muscled legs straddle him and something stroking him fiercely, desperately.

"Mine...all mine..._my littl' toy t'play with..._"

He stared desperately at the bolted door and closed his eyes tight again, trying to block out the lustful pants and chuckles of the _thing _that lay upon him.

_Sam...I love you. I'm sorry. _

And from outside, many orcs and Uruk-hai, including Akhrásh had gathered around the outside of the cell, listening eagerly and nudging one another. They all winked and threw each other satisfied, knowing looks as they heard pleading and screams of pain coming from within, as well as the occasional chortle and groaning from Snaga.

Akhrásh simply stood there with his arms crossed, smirking.

_Job done. _

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N: **Le gasp ;p Pretty evil of me to do this, I know, but it will make sense for the rest of the stuff I had planned (rubs hands) Hope you all enjoyed it, these orcs are getting nastier each chapter, huh huh? ;)


	6. Chapter Five: Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings. Rather obvious.

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**mysterious-muse:** Ok, this is funny I got TWO reviews from you, because, as I noticed, your review for Chapter 4 was waiting in my inbox as SOON as I posted Chapter 5, so I couldn't credit that review on my last chapter. Darnit! Lol, ain't that nutty? Anyways, thank you for your kind reviews, here is more for you, and I'm happy you're interested in the story! I'm spending a lot of time on it, apparently. Haw.

**Lady Lalaith: **Those narsty orcs, mwahah, still...one of the best stories? –BLUSHO SUPREMO- Thankee! And YES! As life has taught ME, you must stay alive. Enjoy!

**Abby: **Thank you! ;p I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! FrodoSam love is so strong...I envy them sometimes, lol. Ooh, yes, Angry!Sam. HOTT. ;o No worries, hun, we are ALL not alone:D Hope you enjoy this next part!

**Anouch: **Hey, glad you liked the chapter:( Yeah, Frodo and Sam are always thinking of each other in the most evil of places _SQUEE _Frodo is a little cutie, huh? _Pinches his cheek_

**British Child: **Teehee. That's all I can say. Teehee. I unleashed my evil side on poor, innocent Frodo. Poor, poor Frodo. I don't want you to spasm uncontrollably, but it's about to get even WORSE. Lol, your review made me laugh Thanks for the comment, and enjoy this? Maybe...? ...Please...?

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**Bleeding Scars**

**Chapter Five: Aftermath**

-:-xXx-:-

_Drip. Drip. Drip. _

Sam sighed slowly, gazing around his prison with exhausted eyes and grazed wrists. All he could hear was the constant, annoying dribble of dirty water coming from the ceiling and the sounds of Frodo's screams echoing in his head as he had been carried away.

_Oh, Frodo...how could I have let you be taken from your Sam like that? How...how could I? Lor' knows what they'll be doing t'you now...what that damned Snaga is doin' to you! Oh, Frodo...I'm so sorry..._

Since the time that had happened, Grimlok, the other of the two captors, had disappeared, leaving Sam alone with his guilt and his thoughts.

He sniffed back angry tears and shivered. His crusted scabs on his back stung painfully and he shivered a little, feeling the damp air reach his bare skin. His torn trousers hung from his hips and legs, providing him with little warmth.

He thought of how his dear master must have felt, sitting here in the dark, stripped of everything he was carrying, until only his naked skin remained. He thought of how, even when Frodo shuddered from the menacing cold, he didn't seem to care. He simply kept silent, not wishing to complain – if not for the sake of his Sam to hold him – and seemed to be staring absently at the wall.

_It's that Ring, _Sam told himself. _That Ring. Those orcs must have it, and Frodo must be tearin' himself up over it. But it ain't his fault – none of this is. Gollum...that's the name that's at fault here, and no mistake._

He suddenly stopped, snapping his head towards the sound of footsteps clattering on the old ladder. Akhrásh appeared all of a sudden, his whip laced over his strong, muscular body, entwining with his scars. Sam jolted to life in an instant.

"What've you _done _to 'im, you filth!" screamed the brave hobbit, attracting the sneering orc's attention. "Where is he?"

Guffawing horribly, Akhrásh gave Sam a sharp kick in the knees, sending him flailing to the ground, his face contorted in pain. "Keep yer mouth closed, vermin," he spat, leering over Sam with victory in his eyes. "Yer littl' mouse is perfectly safe in Snaga's hands...he's bein' well taken care of, he is – "

"_How, _exactly!" roared Sam, scrambling upright again, fury blazing through his body. "What is that dirty orc doin' to my master?"

Akhrásh pulled a face – a face that could simply be described of as burning triumph...a look that contained a burning comeback and he was desperate to blurt it out. Grasping hold of Sam's golden brown hair, he yanked him closer (ignoring Sam's grunt of pain) and pressed his nose so close to Sam's, Sam could smell what the orc had had for dinner earlier that night.

It didn't smell good.

"Oh, I think y'already know," Akhrásh muttered venomously, mockingly patting Sam on the cheek. "I bet y'practised it yerself with 'im many a time, eh?"

Sam wrenched away from the vice grip and felt his whole body, heart and soul slump together in one, big, messy heap. _Frodo..._he thought, his hands trembling along with his weeping heart. _My Frodo...my beautiful, perfect Frodo...brought to be tormented and molested with these disgustin' pieces of filth..._

He thought of Frodo at this very moment now. Bound, helpless, and all alone. All alone, that is, aside from that wretched Snaga, who was forcing Frodo to do every bidding that he desired. Snaga had Frodo's body in his slimy claws, and could do whatever he wanted with it. Sam imagined Frodo in agony...moaning, writhing and screaming on the ground after being forced on.

He was screaming for Sam.

"Oh, Frodo..." the younger hobbit wept, clenching his fists together and feeling them shake. "Frodo...Frodo-love...No!"

Akhrásh did nothing. He stood there with a malevolent smile on his tattered face, witnessing the brutal mind-slaughtering that he had just inflicted on his prisoner. He enjoyed the torture. It was his favourite part. Normally, he would settle for blood, torn flesh and cries of pain as he broke the skin. However, watching the gardener wrestle with his mind's thoughts of what may have happened was, he admitted, all the more better.

Because Sam was torturing _himself. _And it worked.

-:-xXx-:-

Snaga stirred a good many hours later. He did not know how that he had managed to fall asleep, all except from exhaustion. He frowned and looked around suspiciously, wondering what the reason was for this.

He had almost forgotten about the tiny hobbit lying in his arms.

And then, glancing down into Frodo's sleeping, dirt-streaked face, he understood, and remembered everything. He smiled slyly to himself, smirking at the little one's pale, bruised body against him, sticky from cold sweat. His lips were parted a little in slumber and his brow had coalesced, making him appear hurt and confused. He was shivering a little, his curls attached to his clammy forehead.

He was bleeding below. It was dotted along the ground, and on Snaga's hand.

Snaga chuckled and raked a slow, menacing claw down the crook of his prisoner's arm, cocking his head a little to one side and peering into Frodo's face. He continued to trace down Frodo's elbow and onto his navel, all the while whispering to him:

"Wake uuuppp..._wake uuupppp..._"

Frodo murmured something in his sleep. Then, stirring, his expression shifted along with his body as he fluttered his lids open.

And then it came. An enormous, sharp wave of torture rampaged through the rear of his body, carving its way through him like a long knife. He winched from the feel of it and curled into himself in an attempt to block it out. He turned his head and stared into Snaga's ugly face, peering over him.

"'Ad a good littl' nap, did we, my sweet?" the orc jeered, boring himself into Frodo's sunken blue eyes, full of pain. He laced his hand slowly to the front of Frodo and shifted his body closer, so that the hobbit lay with his back to him and Snaga's naked front was pressed against his sore area. His hand grasped for its target and lay there, all the while he was whispering in the poor creature's ear.

"We 'ad us a good time, didn't we?" he snarled, rubbing.

Frodo wept silent tears as he lay there, trembling, listening to the horrible words. He was deathly quiet, lying there like a limp fish, allowing the monster to rub him and touch him. His body felt broken – shattered like glass and he was unable to put it back together again. Why would he waste his time attempting something so impossible?

He tried anyway.

"_No,_" he whispered, in a hollow, broken voice. He made an effort to move Snaga's forceful hand away from his most private areas, but his hands were quivering like leaves in a winter breeze. "_Don't...no. Don't touch me...please..._"

"Hush, sweet'art," continued Snaga, batting Frodo's feeble, pained attempt away and finishing what he was doing, all the time murmuring, sighing and groaning in his ear. "Mmmm...soft...elf silk, tha's what yer are..."

Frodo suppressed a sob. With the rush of that voice in his ear, everything came back again. The struggle, the hard, cold wall, the thoughts of Sam. And those words in his ear...against his cheek...in his mouth:

"_Elf silk...my toy...lemme play with yer...**yeah...**_"

"I said, don't touch me..." said Frodo, in a somewhat stronger voice, struggling to shift his broken body as far away as he could from his horrid tormentor. However, it wasn't long before he winced in pain from the past invasion and he groaned.

Snaga smiled wryly, moving closer to meet him again and slipping his oily arms around the hobbit's thin waist, trailing claws over the inside of his thighs. "I like it when yer fight me..." he hissed in Frodo's ear, feeling him shiver. "Make's me want it mor'...make's me want t'_do _things t'yer."

Shuddering in mild revulsion, Frodo closed his bruised eyelids and, without willing to, pictures of the events he had previously taken part of were rushing through his head last night. Voices became sharp and painful whilst images were nothing but a blur.

"_Please...please stop – hurts..."_

"_Hush –" _a hand over his mouth, cutting off his words. _"Don't scream."_

"_Stop it...I'm begging you...!"_

"_Good...I want yer t'beg...makes me excited..."_

"_Please..."_

"_Oh, yeahh..."_

He remembered his own hands having a life of their own, attempting weakly to shove the orcs attacks away from his body. _"No...stop – get **off..." **_

"_Yeah – **yeah, **tha's right...shove me away, m'little rat...I'll just do it mor..."_

"_Sam..." _he remembered sobbing openly, clawing at the ground to block out the pain, his blunt fingernails bleeding. _"Sam..." _

"Sam..."

Snaga sneered with glee inside at hearing the hobbit's shattered cry for his lover, tied and helpless himself in the tower. He would make him forget Sam. He would hold him down and touch him whenever he wanted, doing something different every time; experimenting. He was his own prisoner..._just his, _and he could do whatever he wanted with this little one. He would make him scream...weep...beg, driving into his soul many times a day until he could not go a day without it.

Until he forgot.

"Ssshh," he hushed seductively, "don't think abou' _him. _Yer with _me _now, righ'?"

Frodo blinked tears.

"Yeah..." snarled the orc, feeling a strange, twisted sense of power and control slide over him, each time that he saw Frodo's beautiful, naked body and the locked door, that could only be opened whenever he wanted it to. He knew that Frodo could not escape, even if he tried. The door was the only way out, and he had the only thing that could get him out.

"Y'wanna _stay _here w'me, don't yer?" said Snaga, pulling Frodo's rear to his own bare body, his black lips running over the hobbit's forearm as he spoke. "Yer like my touch, don't yer? Y'like..._this..._" and Frodo felt the orc's hand move in front of him again, groping.

Frodo felt dirty and disgusting. He felt dry blood around his bottom and on the backs of his legs. Sweat dripped from his brow and his curls. It wasn't just _his _sweat. Dirt stained his white skin and he tasted bile in his mouth. At once, out of nowhere, he answered Snaga's question by attempting to rise to his knees, wincing from the river of pain.

"What are yer doin', m'lovely?" cooed the orc sweetly, entwining his arm around Frodo's waist, pulling him back down to the floor on his sore bottom, ignoring his gasp of pain. His own legs encased Frodo's, pulling his private parts closer to his prisoner and he slowly licked at the sweat on the hobbit's back with his slimy tongue.

"I..." Frodo breathed, attempting feebly to pull himself free, but Snaga was too strong and held him back, pulling him ever closer. He felt something hardening behind him.

"Oooh, I could jus' eat yer up," Snaga growled, nipping at Frodo's shoulder blades. He clenched Frodo's buttock in another tight squeeze, seeing the hobbit's toes curl from the reflex. "Every last drop..."

"Sam..." Frodo gasped, the orc's grip crushing his ribs as he tried to pull himself away. "Must...see...Sam..."

Before he realised, Snaga had jerked him back so sharply he felt the cold stone beneath his spine again, the monster's hand creeping slowly up his legs and pulling them apart. His heart raced and his mind exploded. _No...not again! Surely...surely **not again? **_

"N-no!" he cried out, struggling to rise into a seated position, or to at least move away from _him. _"Not again – please!"

It was difficult for him to escape the orc's grip, who, in Frodo's current state, was at least three times stronger than himself. "Quiet, now," whispered Snaga, excitedly, leaning forward with his body weight on Frodo's, taking his nipples between his claws and pinching them hard. Frodo's body went rigid with shock and he clenched his teeth.

"That hurts – stop it!"

He knew that he wouldn't listen.

"Y'll learn t'love it, in due time, m'lovely," growled the orc, bending down to flick the raised nipples with his saliva-coated tongue. "Y'll love t'pain...yer will wan' me t'make yer _bleed..._" Frodo recognised the growing excitement in his words.

"No..." he pleaded, tears coating his lashes. "Please! No! Not again! I...I can't bear it – it _hurts..._"

Lips clamped onto his, swallowing his voice and his sobs. "I know it hurts," Snaga growled, shifting his hand beneath Frodo's rear and pulling it closer, moving it up and down in time with his so their hips grinded together. "I know it hurts. I need _every _drop of yer...an' I'm _so thirsty..._"

-:-xXx-:-

Narzuk paced down to the cellars below, ready to collect the canister of liquid that Grimlok had ordered him to fetch. He wasn't exactly sure how it was going to be used, but he knew that that filthy rat he had knocked out earlier had something to do with it, up in the tower.

He reached up high and grasped it in his big hands, checking to see if it was still full. He shook it. It would do. He turned on his heel and began to march his way back to the tower stairs, when all of a sudden he heard a smarmy voice, demanding and passionate, echoing from the basement of the cellar, in a dark cell that was usually only kept for supplies.

"_Oh...yeah...ooohh, **good...**Ohhh – no, no...don't get up...yer not goin' **anywhere...**Mmm...that's good..."_

Narzuk smiled to himself and, taking the canister with him, headed on over, hearing the orgasmic noises getting louder and louder, coming from inside the cell.

_Maybe that scum got a littl' lonely all my 'imself,_ he thought with dry humour.

It was then that he heard the pained pants and groans of someone else in there too – so he _wasn't _alone! He sneaked along the dark, smelly corridor and peered through the gap in the door between the hinges.

He could hear Snaga's voice now; he was the one who had been speaking lustfully to whoever was in there. He could see the orc's naked form, his bottom facing the door, moving up and down rhythmically in time with his moans. Narzuk also thought he saw a faint glint of smooth thighs in the air, hairy toes curling, also in time.

_I think I'll stay her' for a whil', _he thought excitedly, squeezing the canister tightly in his fists; excited. He continued to stay near the doorway, hearing more pants and grunts and _heaves -- ! _

"'Ey!" he then heard, Snaga's eyes appearing through the gap in the door. Narzuk noted that he was dripping with oily sweat, his face was flushed and he was struggling to catch his breath. "This ain't no peep show," he snarled. "Get goin'."

Narzuk scowled, looming over the doorframe, coating the smaller orc in shadow. "Don't think y'can start givin' _me _orders, ratbag," he threatened, pointing an accusing finger through the gap, straight between the orc's eyes. "Jus' 'cos you snagged the prize of a regular harlot rat don't giv' yer the right to order _me _abou'. Just watch yerself, or I let the others know, an' you won't lik' tha', now, would yer?"

Snaga spat at him.

"Now get back to yer littl' sex slave," sneered Narzuk, heading back up the tower stairs. "And keep yer mouth shut where it don't belong."

And as he left, Snaga whirled around to stare at the bleeding, trembling body of Frodo, gazing longingly at the door, as if silently pleading for help. He grinned as he made his way back to him, straddling him again and completing what he had begun again.

"Sorry 'bout that..._interruption, _m'lovely," he soothed as he joined their bodies once more. "Look's lik' I'm not th' only one that wants a piece o'yer...but I _ain't _gonna share..._oh no..._yer all mine...my littl' harlot..._oh, yeeaahhhhh..._"

_At least, _he thought dryly as he chewed on Frodo's neck, grasping hold of the back of his head and cradling him against his bare shoulder as he moved, _I'm keepin' my mouth where it belongs..._

-:-xXx-:-

**A/N: **Oooh, is it just me, or is anyone else starting to enjoy the Frodo/Snaga stuff? OO I know I am, but there we go. dodges fruit I KNOW I KNOW IT IS BAD! But it's HOTT. Another favourite pairing of mine to add to the list Anyway, review? Please? ;p


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